


Grass Stains

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4949119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coralee prompted me for JB week and the color green. Her prompt was "grass stains."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grass Stains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coraleeveritas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/gifts).



Jaime Lannister sits on his front porch, feet propped up on the railing, drinking his first beer of the day and watches the girl mow his lawn. She is tall and strong, younger than she looks, probably no more than twenty. He is at least ten years older, yet it doesn’t feel that way. Strange. Her face is blotchy, patches of freckles erupting over her skin in the heat of the late summer sun. When he’d called the number from the flyer in his mailbox about lawn service, he’d expected a crew of Lothari workers with riding mowers and leaf blower backpack units to show up at his home. Instead, it was the girl, alone, with a push mower, wearing a thin t-shirt and jean shorts and abnormally green sneakers.

Jaime had laughed at first. She looked more boy than girl with her thick lips and broad, flat face, thin hair the color of dirty straw. He’d told her to leave. Then she’d turned those eyes on him, pretty eyes full of despair, saying she needed the money, needed it to help with her college expenses. She had two other jobs, but she could mow on the weekends, she’d even edge and spray for weeds. He’d shrugged and told her to have at, but that he expected the work to be done well. She’d just nodded, those pretty eyes turned calm.

Now, he spends his Sunday afternoons watching her. He is fascinated by the muscles in her calves, how they flex with each step. Occasionally, she wipes the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, and a strip of toned, pale stomach peeks out from the hem of her shirt. She always has a giant bottle of water with her. Once she finishes, he’ll offer her a beer. She always declines, but if he is lucky, she’ll stand in the shade of the porch and talk to him.

Brienne, her name is, a pretty name. She is majoring in materials science engineering. An odd choice for a girl, but she isn’t like any girl Jaime has ever met. She works in a welding shop during the weekdays and as a dock loader in the evenings. She has no family to speak of, with her father spending most of his time at the homes of various girlfriends. She has no boyfriend and, as far as he can tell, no friends at all. She is always kind to the one-handed, bitter man whose yard she mows.

He watches her finish the yard and stow the mower away in her beat-up truck. She climbs up the steps of the porch without her usual shy smile. He looks at the green around her crew socks and shoes, bleeding onto her ankles, mysterious clumps of grass on her legs and one on her shoulder. He imagines reaching up and flicking the grass from her skin. Instead, he reaches for his wallet, and she raises her hand with its green-tinged fingers to stop him.

“I...this one is free,” she says with her usual blush and stammer.

He raises a brow.

“The dock has been really busy, and they’ve offered me weekend overtime. I can’t turn it down. I won’t be able to mow for you for a few weeks.” Her eyes dart around the porch. “I’m sorry, Jaime.” She takes a big swig of her water almost as if she can swallow the words she just said.

He inhales sharply at the sound of his name from her lips. It has taken weeks to get her past stammering over “Mr. Lannister.” He stares at her freckled knees, which seemed to bloom with heat at his gaze. His eyes travel up her frame to meet her eyes, and he watches the beads of sweat slide down her forehead and over her brow.

“Aren’t you due back to school in a couple of weeks?” he asks.

She nods and bites her lip. “I guess, I mean, I think this will be the last time I mow for you.” She shrugs. “So this one’s on me.”

He stands up to face her, excited by her nearness, bereft at the thought of her leaving. He shoves his hand in his pocket to stop himself from reaching out to wipe the perspiration from her neck. “Well, then, you should come in out of the sun. Have a proper goodbye.”

She looks at the screen door and then back at him. He’s not invited her in before; he’s not dared. He holds his breath waiting for her answer.

She smiles shyly and nods. “I’d like that.”

He opens the screen door and ushers her inside. He ponders stopping in the front room, but it’s too big, too formal. She’ll be uncomfortable on his couch. He walks her through to the kitchen and motions for her to sit on one of the barstools. He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a beer, expecting her to decline. She hesitates for a moment before taking it from his hand, her fingers brushing his. She blushes and averts her eyes as she opens the bottle and takes a quick sip. She grimaces in distaste, and he grins at her. He opens a second beer for himself and sits across from her.

Brienne spins on her stool and Jaime regrets not taking the seat beside her, so he can be closer. She takes another small sip of beer and grimaces again.

Jaime grins at her and tips his bottle towards her. “Your first?” he asks.

A blush creeps up her face as she shakes her head, “No.” She bravely takes a larger drink this time.

Brienne has told him before she doesn’t go out to parties at school. She’s on scholarship, so she studies, and when she’s not studying, she works.

Jaime thinks about teasing her, thinks about how the flush radiates out from the spot under her chin, working its way across her face and down her neck to where the collar of her shirt lays damp against her collarbone, but she has that look about her, the one she gets when she wants to ask him something, but is too shy or afraid, so he holds back and waits.

Once half her bottle of beer is gone, Brienne has worked up the courage.

“Jaime,” she inhales. The sound of his name makes his spine tingle. “How did you lose your hand?”

For a moment, he is angry. The rage he has felt for so long bubbles up inside him. Then he looks at her face. There’s no disgust there, no pity, just curiosity and a need to understand.

Jaime moves to sit beside her then, and lays his stump on the counter, so Brienne can see it, touch it if she wants. He hopes she wants. “It was a motorcycle accident,” he begins. He tells her the story, all of it. The fight with Cersei, his anger, how he drove off in the rain, the truck that hit him, the weeks in the hospital with only his brother visiting.

Her eyes fill. He wants to reach out and brush away the tears before they fall, but she blinks them away. Her hand darts out to touch his wrist, her green fingers tracing over his scars. He inhales sharply. She pulls away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She spreads her fingers. “I’m a mess. I didn’t even wash.” She bites her lip. “I should go.”

Jaime looks into her eyes, knowing it’s his last chance. “You should stay.” He takes her hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers. He stands and tugs her to her feet. She trembles when he touches his lips to hers. He pulls back, not touching her, giving her the chance to change her mind, the chance to leave. It seems a lifetime before her mouth crashes into his, awkward lips and sloppy tongue. He wonders if she’s even been kissed before. He hopes not. He leads her past the living room, up the stairs to his bedroom. She doesn’t hesitate to follow. Her body is slick and strong and all he ever wanted. He wraps himself up inside her, never wanting to let go.

It is late evening when he wakes. The bed beside him is empty save for the smell of her sweat on his pillow and the grass stains on his sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to QuizzicalQuinnia for the beta and love and support.


End file.
